Job Interview

Yesterday I had a job interview. It's been a long time since I have interviewed for a job. I really want the job, but I am a little worried.

I think everyone worries after interviewing for work. In fact I think that the only people who can feel really confident after a job interview are those who have no feelings whatsoever.

I had to take a computer assessment. You all know I am computer savvy, right? How else could I blog like I do? But I am a little worried because there was this one question about using the shortcut function for searching. I answered with Ctrl+S (for search). Right? Makes the most sense. Wrong. The correct answer is Ctrl+F (for find). "How was I supposed to know that? I just use google," I tell my hubby. He says, "No Alice, you don't use that function online, but in word processing." Oh, yeah, I actually do faintly remember that function from back in my secretarial days. Too bad I couldn't remember the correct answer during the assessment. I even got this little voice in the back of my brain saying NO NOT CTRL+S, that would be too obvious  Too bad I can't call them up and say, "I know I got that question wrong but I will never forget it now." I am trying to console myself by thinking that I got every other question right. And you only had to pass the assessment, not ace it.

But, then I start freaking out about the interview portion. I replay every word out of my mouth. And you all know that can be a scary thing.

All I can do is chuckle and question myself as to WHY I told this story. Seriously, I have no shame. Two male interviewers and I pull out the story with the word pee in it? How did they even contain their laughter.

I will say one thing, that company that I just interviewed is one professional place. Those interviewers barely cracked a smile. Even when I tried to upsell them on the fact that they need colored sharpies instead of just plain black ones for their interviewees to write their names on the nametags. Just barely smiled, those two. Even if it was dress-down Friday, they were not giving up on their professionalism.

I bet they busted up as soon as they saw that my professionalism made it all the way out to the parking lot where my minivan awaited. At least I didn't pee on their floor from pure nervousness.

There's always an upside.

The self-talk that will be ensuing for the next few day at my house: at least you didn't pee on their floor Alice.

And if they don't hire you, no worries. You will still get to sleep through the night.

Oh, and the last but greatest calmer downer: you used to work there Alice. In a higher paying position. If they don't rehire you, it's not God's will.

And I will believe me. Because serenity is awesome. And the only way to get it is to believe and trust in God. He can work miracles. Even if I stick my foot in my mouth at every crossroads in my life.

Hunting for Clothes

I haven't done a thrifty post in a while. 

I can't wait to post my hubby's Father's Day gifts. 

I did good. 

Really good.

And this morning I realized that I hadn't done anything for our dads yet.

Ugh.

Not ugh to our dads, but ugh to my thoughtlessness.

So, the other day, Abigail and I went through her list of "to-pack" for her first year of church girl's camp.

Enter squeals of delight. 

And lots and lots of vicarious living.

To our dismay, Abigail needed a winter coat.

She lost hers sometime in December and has been making due with heavy sweatshirts ever since.

Once we made it to the move in April, and it wasn't so terribly cold here in Utah, we figured we wouldn't have to worry about it again until next year.

We thought wrong.

There is still snow on the ground at the campsite.

Where am I going to find a winter coat in the middle of June?

No problem. We may find an even BETTER winter coat this time of year.

If we shop at the thrift store.

Which we do.

A lot.

So, guess what?

We found a $300 Nils winter ski jacket in almost brand new condition for  $18. I then used my 20% off coupon and saved a few more bucks.

The girl loves her new jacket

and I love it too.

It's the prettiest most pale pink with black and white.

And apparently the black and white makes the pink acceptable.

Win win.

Needless to say, I'm a bargain hunter.

I like the idea of being a hunter.

On the prowl.

Anyhow, anyone with lots of kids knows that you save the hand me downs.

I guess Sophia and Bella will be the proud owners of a pale pink ski jacket someday.

Meanwhile, Abigail will be wearing it to camp,

and when she gets home, we will put it in her closet bin with the rest of her winter clothes.

Three times a year, I go through the bins.

Summer, winter, and back to school.

I've got it down to a science.

Three times a year, I take time with each child to inspect every article of their clothing.

We put "still using" articles back in the drawers and closet.

We hand down the "too small" but will fit your sister next season to the correct person's bin.

And we retrieve and put away from the bin the seasonals:

bathing suits, long sleeves, sweaters, coats, shorts, etc.

It's so exciting.

In a house full of girls,

clothes are a big hit.

And finding a shirt that you had forgotten 

about buying months before 

is the equivalent to remembering 

you have $20 in the pocket of your jeans.

Throughout the year, I buy "off season" on sale.

Meaning when winter and summer things go on sale,

I stock up in the appropriate sizes.

I put all my bargains in the bins.

When back to school time comes, 

I rarely have to get my kids anything 

because they usually have a few nice outfits waiting for them in their bin.

Outfits that I got for cheap.

Real cheap.

Oh and shoes I also got for cheap.

The new things lighten the disappointment from the hand me downs.

Or at least I like to think that they do.

But to tell you the truth,

with this system, I think my kids have an equal appreciation 

for new, handed down, or bought second hand.

I believe in affirmative action.

Equal opportunity for clothes of all backgrounds.

Caroline is wearing the things from this bin now.

Check out those cute tennis shoes and Tevas.

The tennis shoes were bought at Target last year for $2.

And the Teva's were from a yard sale for a $1.

Both are in excellent condition.

And used equally.

And here is Sophia's bin from last year.

Yeah for her teeny little frame.

All of her shorts still fit!

Bonus.

The only place I had to hunt was the bin at the house.

Funny Beiber

Remember this old Justin Beiber post?

We love Justin Beiber around here.
Sophia especially loves it when we tease her about him.
I am not really in a writing mood,
so I am sharing with you things I find interesting on youtube.
This female version of Justin Beiber rocks house.
I believe her original song is only funny when she performs it.



I overheard another funny conversation at our house the other day.
It has nothing to do with Justin Beiber.
Unless showcasing that my kids are so beyond celebrity worship counts?

I was recently asked to work with the Cub Scout at church.
Yes, the Lord and the church as a whole both have a great sense of humor.
The mother of 4 girls is, of course, the perfect choice to be a Cub Scout Den Leader.
Needless to say, I've been trying to psych myself up about it.

Abigail turned to me at church when they announced my newest calling and said,
"Mom, it looks like you are finally going to get your boys."

So, later that day, I hear this:

Abigail to Bella: Bella, you are gonna have an in with the boys your age now.
Bella: Yeah, I know. Sweet.
Sophia: It's too bad mom doesn't get to work with the boys your age
           Abigail.
Abigail: No, I don't want mom to work with the boys my age,
            I want her to work with the Eagle Scouts.
Sophia: Why?
Abigail: Those older boys are cuter. 14 and 15 year olds are just
             right.
Sophia: But the Eagles Scouts are older than that.
Abigail: Even better.

And I thought for a minute that Abigail was just vying for the more driven boys.
She could care less about Eagle Scout status.
She just wants those older boys.

I love eavesdropping on them.

I am predicting a day in the near future

that I will remind Abigail that she only wants an Eagle Scout.

Gotta keep that conversation at the top of my trick bag.

It may be very handy when LG and I don't approve a certain somebody.

Back to the original story.
I am happy to now understand more fully
why exactly Justin Beiber is irrelevant at our house.
Apparently my girls only want the Eagle Scouts.

I guess that's why I have to work in Cub Scouts.
Somebody has to start these boys on the right path.
They have to earn the Eagle to be worthy of my girls.
Or be 4 years older.
Precisely why Justin Beiber would never stand a chance.
How old is that kid? 8?

I Believe

I believe in laughter.



I believe in the Book of Mormon.



I believe that all religions get mocked.



I believe in Jesus.



I believe in my friend Daisy.

C Jane's Rooftop Concert

I have blogged several times about my new favorite blog.

CJane

I sent Courtney (who happens to be NieNie's funny sister) an e-mail and asked her to guest post,

but I believe she has been so dang busy with 

her rooftop concert series

that she hasn't been able to respond.

I do give her the benefit of the doubt

because I really like her.

And decided I should keep reading her, even if she doesn't read me.

And I really appreciate her sense of humor, her love for Provo and her efforts in the FREE rooftop series.

Did you hear the word FREE?

You all know how frugal I've become.

I jumped all over this opportunity.

I could satisfy my husband's love for jazz AND maybe hopefully run into my favorite blogger.

One out of two ain't bad.

We had a blast.

We got to listen to Mindy Gledhill, whom I really love.

And LG and I both got to check out a new Canadian artist that is all the rage: Meaghan Smith.

She was awesome. LG loved the souped up jazz form that is all her own.

I know crappy picture, but you all know my camera has been broken for a year.

I just thought you would like to have proof that we were actually there.

And, wow, what a view from the rooftop.

I love Utah.

I love my old workplace: NuSkin.

I love the mountains.

And I love our blue skies.

They just seem so much bluer than Knoxville's.

These really sweet college co-eds let us squeeze in front of them.
The rooftop was packed, and we arrived late because I mistakenly thought that concert was at Provo Town Center, not Provo Town Square.

We thought it was so funny that one of our sweet concert friends was smack dab in the middle of our self pic.
She suggested we take one without her in it.
I told her I was going to do a before and after on the blog,
but she never asked for the blog address.
I guess it's better that way.

Man, I need to color my hair desperately.
Wally world has been out of my color for weeks.

Here is another one of our newest friends, she is trying to hide from my behind the head shot.

I was trying to document how crowded the place was.

It was nervous making.

LG's lawyer came out in him and he commented several times that we had to be breaking some fire-code and that if we had an earthquake we would all be done.

O.k maybe that wasn't the lawyer in him, maybe it was the claustrophobia speaking.

One of the most fun things about attending a really crowded space, is people watching.
You got a picture yesterday of the chubby little boy next to us with chocolate all over his face.
I also tried to capture the family with 5 kids a few rows up. The dad was so cute wearing that baby backpack, but once again my crappy camera disappointed.

LG and I are always dumfounded at the new styles.
We are so behind the times.
We pegged this guy as gay for sure.
But, then he was all lovey with the lady.
Chalk another one up to old age.

Raising Boys

As you all know, I know nothing about raising boys. Well, I should give myself some credit. I do know a few things. Just from what I have heard from friends:

1. baby boys require vaseline and guaze.
2. the boys in kindergarten mark territory by spreading crayons, trash, and glue as far spread as possible (direct contrast to the girls who all keep their stuff neat and tidy) There has to be some kind of case study here between the hunting vs. gathering instincts.
3. boys are way less whiny but way more active.
4. boys are dirty and stinky and pee everywhere.
5. boys don't require hair styling. (how lucky)
6. boys tear holes in their jeans twice as much as girls do.
7. boys hit.
8. boys love sand and dirt. (but so do my girls)
9. boys eat more.

What am I missing here mommas? Please do tell me. I can only live vicariously.

All I can think about right now is this old post. 

10. boys have more butt crack.

Check out this chubby boy that was sitting next to us at this concert.
LG and I feel so cultured. We have attended 2 concerts in a month's time. Utah is good for us, I think.
He was part of some of the best entertainment of the night for LG and I. How darling is he?
Hope his mom won't mind the posted picture. She was busy on her phone allowing me to steal this gem without asking permission.

Check out this tagline contest I won today . It's so great to have your creative juices recognized from time to time. And I really like the lesson the picture teaches. I know nothing of boys, but if a picture like this got taken, I know one thing only, dad was not around. Ladies, dress your boys macho. I want my girls to have some real manly men to marry someday.

Commonality

It is my belief that every individual on this earth can find commonality with one another.

What do I have in common with this Nigerian artist?

Besides that fact that we are both Mormon?

I love the rain too.

LeGrand and I love the rain.

I don't understand how anyone can not appreciate rain. It is essential to life. It is relaxing. It is music to my ears. It's a reminder that I am privileged to live on God's earth.

Desire

"Are all my desires pure?" I asked myself while reading this recent address.

I desire to love my fellow man.

I desire to live a long life.

I desire to spend quality time with my kids.

I desire to serve God.

I desire to share truth with my friends.

I desire to be humble.

I desire to be wise.

I desire a close relationship with my personal Savior Jesus Christ.

I desire to have a strong marriage.

I desire to teach my girls to be healthy and happy and strong.

I desire to love myself better.

I desire to help others.

I desire eternal life.

Yet, I judge others, refuse to eat right and exercise enough, tell my kids to leave me alone, pretend I don't know that people need service, withhold my beliefs in discussions, think I am too important, refuse to implement knowledge I have gained, slack on my personal scripture study and prayer, yell at my husband, assume I always have time to teach that to my kids later, engage in unhealthy self-talk, feel I lack skills, abilities, or means to make a difference, and last but not least, I looked at that pornographic picture that came up on my screen when I google image searched desire. Gross. Why did I do it? Yuck. I should have known better than to google search "desire". All I could say to myself is "so much for effective spyware."

I guess I am on the phase between desire and choices.

My newest desire is to never see anything like that again. I am pretty sure I am scarred enough that I will never ever falter on that choice again.

Anyone can desire. The hard part is in the choice and the actions. But choice and action are where the rewards await us.

I so want to change, achieve, and become. And I so want to forget that nasty picture.

Father's Day Nots

I may not be able to tell you what you should buy for your dad/hubby for Father's Day, but I can tell you what NOT to buy.

My hubby, LG, was checking out Amazon's list of Father's Day sale items and gave me the low down.

Here was his strongest reaction.

Tupperware? Tupperware! Tupperware?! Show me one dad in the universe that would want Tupperware for Father's Day.

Knives are just a tad bit better, but seriously? Who is running this website? Every metrosexual homosexual girly stay-home dad they could find?

Hmm. Robotic lawnmower. (said in a non-emotional voice)

Me: I thought you would love that?

LG: Oh yeah, that is cool. I would love that.

My man would also love that metal detector. It's a gadget. Anything gadget is beyond good. We decided that Ikea is the best store ever for a date-night because it combines a man's love for gadget with a woman's love for decor and beauty. He would also love the flatscreen or the wireless wireless forecast station.

Looking at the list this morning, I don't need my man to give me his two cents to instantly pick out other items that would be a bust at my house: lava lamp (he is 35 now), Jalepeno Rack (what the crap is that?), the turkey fryer (he wouldn't even be able to try it out until November), the picture frames (he doesn't love us that much), Desktop Humidor (I know we are kind of less than cultured but what is that? Is it just that I am a Mormon. Is a Humidor where a man keeps his cigars? I seriously don't know), the white dinky office chair (he's a man people, he wants a real chair), and last but certainly not least, the gnome (what kind of fathers day message does that send...you are so...um...round in the middle).

If I HAD to buy from Amazon, I would go with the hammock on the second page. Or the robotic lawn mower. I would maybe even entertain the idea of the outdoor food smoker (if the man actually EVER cooked anything in his life).

Since the lawnmower is 800 fat ones and the metal detector is 849 and the flat screen is only 42", I guess I am going to have to go with my first and best idea: vienna sausages.

I try to buy the man some kind of sausage for every holiday and the little metal can will take him right down  memory lane. He was telling the girls just yesterday about when he was a kid he loved his Saturday adventures. He would load up his backpack with everything he needed (food, water, toilet paper) and head out for an adventure on his bike. He would be gone all day looking for abandoned building out in the forest. For some reason that he can't explain, his food always included vienna sausages. Gross.

This year, I am packing a backpack full of vienna sausages and taking the man on an adventure for Father's Day. I might even give him the ultimate gift. I might even eat one of the sausages. Or not.

Or I may have to rethink the whole holiday by shopping at America's true manly man store.

Walmart here I come.

 I would never want to disappoint this man. Look at him. He's the best daddy ever.

This article was first published and filled with useless links as Father's Day Nots on Blogcritics.

Although I was honored for my post to be chosen for publishing, 

I am not sure if I will ever enter another post for their review in the future

as it brought me no hits and it seems that the whole point of Blogcritics

is to use others' writing to shamelessly earn income for themselves.